


Messy

by fleshlycherry



Category: Firefly
Genre: F/M, Ficlet, crazy space incest, my simon isn't very nice
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-05-26
Updated: 2011-05-26
Packaged: 2017-10-19 19:46:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 467
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/204555
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fleshlycherry/pseuds/fleshlycherry
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In so many ways, River is a mess.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Messy

**Author's Note:**

> Written 2003.

_Then_

River is messy.

Her ability to live in mess is astounding. Very, very smart and very, very messy. Not disorganization. Mess. Plain and simple.

But the thing is she doesn’t always know where everything in the mess is. There isn’t some secret method to her madness. Sometimes she’ll remember where she put something and sometimes she won’t.

Mostly its clothes. They just seem to pile up wherever she goes. Outside the closet door mostly, tossed into a heap. Two outfits a day. One of her school clothes and one the pyjama type things that she wears around her bedroom.

Two in the pile.

One after she comes home from school, and the second whenever she discards them before crawling naked into her bed. Our parents always ask her how someone so smart could be so messy. Usually she’ll just giggle then look at me and tell me to come read her a story before bed. She’ll drop her second set of clothes onto the pile and I’ll sit next to her on the edge of the bed and read her to sleep.

 

 _Now_

She doesn’t have enough things to be messy here. Just her cast off clothes from Kaylee. Not enough for two sets a day anymore. The pile doesn’t get as wide or as large. We have to do washing more often with fewer clothes.

It’s all in her head now, the useless piles, the mess. She turned to me yesterday morning and asked with her palm grinding into her head, how someone so smart could be so messy. I just hugged her and took her to the infirmary to clean the scratches left by her fingernails.

River isn’t a little girl anymore but last night she told me to come read her a story before bed, so I did. She put her day-clothes on the meagre pile and got into bed.

"Come to bed now, Simon."

So I did, slipping under the blankets next to her. Not quite enough room for the two of us in the bed.

"No, no! not good enough. Not right!" Tugging at my vest, digging into my skin, pulling at my shirt. So I got out of bed and put all my clothes on the pile. She lifted the blankets then and let me back into the bed.

Lying on my back, she slid one leg over my abdomen, one hand over my chest. "Two in the pile Simon. Good." I could feel her lips against by collar bone softly. I wrapped by arms around her and quickly heard the sound of her sleeping breath. Her body was warm, and her bed oddly more comfortable than mine even though I know that the mattresses are the same cheap generic brand. So I slept. And dreamt of a messy River.


End file.
